Chapter 1

/Christine, Christine/

Cold, steely eyes looked down on the exhibition below. The senior class of dragon-fighters fought on. Some against one another, others against worn and bloody hardwood posts, all of them, Viking youth drenched in sweat and covered in bruises.

"Your best?" Drogo Bludvist asked, without turning. His eyes were on one warrior in particular. This one hit harder, moved faster-she was a blur of strength and ferocity compared to her classmates.

The headmaster almost didn't need to follow his gaze. "Astrid Hofferson. She's been training with us for five years now and it shows." Stoick the Vast said evenly. He tried to conceal the pride in his voice, hoping Drogo would not detect it. "Only a few, more experienced fighters, could compare." That didn't help, he berated himself.

Below them, Astrid side-stepped out of a fist aimed to her face. In a split second, Astrid yanked her opponent's outstretched arm towards her, kneed the chest on its way down, and smashed the jaw for good measure. Drago could hear the bones crack from where he was. Was it that she was that strong or was he just paying that much attention? He watched on as she wiped the sweat off her brow, sweeping her blonde bangs to the side. Then she looked up, straight to his face, as if she had known he was watching her.

Astrid looked up, eyeing the familiar shadow propped on the banisters. Her phantom was there, crouching only inches from where her headmaster and his visitor observed her class from the arena's balcony. He was unseen to all-except her. He flashed a smile beneath his masked eyes, and raised his hand slightly in greeting. Well aren't you scary? She heard his voice in her mind, patronizing and a bit nasal.

Careful not to give his position away, Astrid turned her back to him, calling for a new challenger. Another voice came from above.

"Enough." Said Stoick, barley needing to raise his voice. Her class stopped and stood in attention in an instant. Most of them knew him as their headmaster, the head trainer of this school from fighting dragons. Only a few them, Astrid included, called him chief. "It is time for the final presentation. Clear the arena."

Students, trainers, and arena attendants grabbed what weapons and equipment they could and moved out of the way. Astrid moved to the sidelines and stood among her classmates, axe in hand. Ruffnut, beside her, leaned in to whisper, "Any ideas yet?" They had known there would be a final show for the headmaster's honored guest, but no one was told what it would be.

Astrid shrugged, "Maybe a one-on-one?"

Ruffnut seemed to like that idea. "Yeah! Against a dragon!"

Astrid' eyes widened in panic. She hadn't thought of that. Surely they wouldn't... And while hehere watching? She had to stop this-

"Hofferson. Front and center."

A soldier to her core, Astrid obeyed without thinking. She made her way to the center of the arena floor and faced the two men standing on the balcony above. "Yes, Chief." Of course it was her. It was always her.

Stoick the Vast held back a grimace. Before him stood a Berkian, one of the last Hairy Hooligans, here to train and avenge her tribe. Could he really stomach this? Risk her, of all people?

"Warrior," Drogo addressed her. "You are the best of your peers, or so they say. Show me what the best can do." He gave the signal. Two things happened: the guard by the heavy steel gate moved to open it and her axe was taken from her. She was to do this unarmed.

Stoick and her peers watched in anticipation, Drogo, excitement. What her phantom thought at the moment, she couldn't say. But as the gate lifted and she came face to face with the dragon coming towards her, Astrid had no thought. She just saw blue.

Astrid didn't disappoint. It wasn't a quick fight, but her reflexes, training and quick thinking were undeniable. Her every move seemed to be two steps ahead of the dragon's next strike. Stoick could hardly believe his eyes. He'd never seen this kind of fight against a dragon. All he's known and taught his warriors-in-training was coming in with full force, staying low, and making us of blind spots. Astrid was somersaulting along the dragon's back, dodging around its swinging, spiked tail and bursts of white-hot fire like she was dancing.

Astrid dived under the dragon at the right moment, sliding under its belly unseen and rose behind it. While the beast distractedly looked for her, Astrid leaped onto its back from behind and quickly made it up to its neck, barely wrapping her arms around its neck.

The cheers from her watching classmates and the shrieks of the dragon filled the arena.

"She's riding it!" Someone in the crowd cried. "She's riding a dragon!"

Astrid released her right hand from its grip on the dragon's neck and reached higher. If she could just reach that spot...

As the dragon thrashed about trying to shake off the Viking, it craned its neck down in the right angle. Astrid's fingers made contact and scratched-firm and gentle as she was taught.

With a noise that was mix of clicks and a purr, the dragon went limp and crashed onto the arena floor. The crowd was small but its cheer filled the arena ten times louder than before-one of their own had taken down a dragon. This victory was an omen of glory to come. It was as if their hearts were singing If she could do it, so can we. Astrid let go of the neck and slid off the still beast.

Drogo was pleased enough to smile. "Well done. Now," he gave another signal and her axe was returned to her. "Finish it."

Astrid turned away from him, her chief and the crowd. This was it—what she dreaded the moment the chief called her name. Only the unconscious dragon could have seen her face-torn and helpless. She gripped her axe. What do I do?She stepped closer to the dragon once more and stopped. What could she do? The war raged within her. Kill the dragon, and she wouldn't and couldn't ever live with herself. Refuse to and she'd expose herself... Her true loyalty... Him...

"You try my patience, warrior." Drogo continued, frowning. Stoick didn't argue with him-what was she waiting for? "Kill that mindless beast now or your skill in battle means noth-"

"Am I not allowed to savor my first kill?" She said loudly, making sure every inch of the arena could hear her. Hear me. She said in her mind, to him and him alone. She raised her axe over the dragon's blue, scaly neck. Stop me.

She swung her axe down and it clanged sharply against metal. Astrid looked up and there he was. Her phantom, now only inches from her, crossing her axe with his sword. She didn't need to pretend to be in shock. Astrid had never been this close to him before.

His eyes-forest green, she had to remember-flashed beneath his black mask. "Deflect." He said, loud enough for only her to hear. He moved his sword to strike her. She blocked it just in time by the hilt of her axe, but in her disbelief, didn't have the strength to keep her balance. The phantom's strike pushed her back and off her feet. His next move was to raise it sword again, but this time, pointed it to Drogo Bludvist, who watched from the balcony.

"This will end with you." The phantom called out to him, his voice made ominous and haunting. No one moved. Her classmates out of fear, the chief in rage, Astrid in awe. Drogo could only grip the ledge from where he stood. He knew a challenger when he saw one.

The phantom's next and last move was to smash something to the floor, then he and the downed dragon were engulfed in green smoke. Her classmates and arena attendants and trainers suddenly found their courage and rushed into the mist, weapons at the ready, but Astrid knew it was useless. When the smoke cleared a moment later, her phantom and the dragon were gone.